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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787099">this bird has flown.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin'>ivermectin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>queerplatonic jenate [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gossip Girl (TV 2007)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Codependency, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Lowercase, Other, POV Jenny Humphrey, They both rlly love each other! that is all., Trauma, and if readers want to read this as romantic i do not mind, not between j&amp;n though!, self-destructive behaviour, sex as self harm, somebody please get my blonde children some therapy, they're queerplatonic btw but i didn't want to use the &amp;</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:01:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>everything still hurts, but with nate, it hurts a little less.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nate Archibald/Jenny Humphrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>queerplatonic jenate [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this bird has flown.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from norwegian wood by the beatles.<br/>sometimes you just gotta be cliche.</p><p>i wrote this out as lesbian jenny + mlm nate in a qpp, but it's pretty ambiguous so feel free to read it however you like?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1</p><p>there must be something wrong with her, because there is just too much light and noise everywhere. like sunflowers reaching for the sun: jenny reaches for nate. her hands grasp his wrist, she thinks of the sound of his laughter. and he is quietly concerned, worried about her in that way nobody else is; nobody else knows how to be.</p><p>eric is her twin soul, her other half, the one person with a suffering that matches hers. the scar on his wrist is smaller than the way he feels, he tells her, once. that he is torn up inside. that he doesn’t think he will ever stop hurting.</p><p>jenny knows the feeling. she thinks there was a time that she prodded at an emotion that felt like a wound just to see it bleed. and then it became a habit; she just couldn’t stop. she never took the pills she dealt, her chemistry grades went sharply up even as her hands shook too much to sew anything.</p><p>she doesn’t get it, how someone like nate can be so earnest, so hopeful and sincere, after everything that’s happened to him. he should be just as downtrodden as she is, she thinks. but it is good that he isn’t; it’s nice.</p><p>like, there is still hope in the world. and jenny reaches out for him, and his hands wrap around her, his chin rests on the top of her head.</p><p> </p><p>2</p><p>they’re singing along to ‘norwegian wood’ in the kitchen. nate has a nice voice, and in an unexpected twist, her voice has more grit to it; his voice is made for the high notes, so they split harmonies like that. they prance around, dancing on the floor in socks, as if this is a song to be happy to. he goes to the cabinet where the batteries are, gets them out, says he’s replacing the ones in the console. jenny watches him go.</p><p> </p><p>3</p><p>the truth of it is messy, messier than she can explain to anyone. it’s in how she can’t sleep unless nate’s in the room, too. not necessarily in the same bed, just, there. there so that when she wakes up, she can see his face, and think, okay. he is still here.</p><p>that is the unbelievable part of it all: he is still here.</p><p>there is a secret here; the feeling of unsteadiness, jenny holding onto nate because there was nothing else to hold on to. and then, seven years later, nate holding on to jenny as she called him a cab.</p><p>jenny wasn’t dan; her way of expressing concern had never been as confrontational. she could’ve said it to him, asked nate why he was making the same mistakes again and again, letting women who he clearly wasn’t even attracted to fuck him, eyes dull enough that she suspected he wasn’t sober enough to consent, even.</p><p>but she already knew the answer. it was a road she’d almost walked down. an urge she’d looked in the eye. and that is the secret, right there. nate archibald, in the cab she’d called him, saying, softly, “jenny, do you think you could stay?”</p><p>of course she could.</p><p> </p><p>4</p><p>she knows what it looks like. her, wearing his shirts. them, sitting too close on the sofa. falling asleep together, all of it.</p><p>she isn’t sure what she wants, what he wants. for now, this is a resting space, a space in transit.</p><p>she hasn’t touched needle and thread in years; he hasn’t played lacrosse in longer.</p><p>in some ways they are ghosts of their past selves, but in other ways: they are better.</p><p> </p><p>5</p><p>jenny saves nate. it’s strange how every coin can flip, every table can turn, the door can hit you on the way out. anything can reverse: jenny learns this.</p><p>accompanies him to therapy. makes him do his worksheets. feels a little like she is his mother.</p><p>and nate saves jenny. they live like two cogs in a machine; dependent. they talk about the things that were done to them, the people who taught them over the years, again and again, that violence was equal to love.</p><p>jenny thinks maybe she’ll never recognise real love when it walks her way. nate tells her that he feels the same.</p><p>at least she has him. he’s like cool water to a burn. everything still hurts, but with nate, it hurts a little less.</p><p> </p><p>6</p><p>“why do we keep doing this to ourselves?”</p><p>club bathroom, holding onto nate, she’d wanted the feeling back. to reclaim it. she didn’t expect to feel like this, like the walls were collapsing on her and she couldn’t breathe.</p><p>he looks at her, sad eyes so much older than twenty-seven, eyes so full of a youth taken away from him.</p><p>“we don’t know any better. we never have.”</p><p>jenny kisses him, because he’s there, and because he has a mouth that she has learnt to trust. nate kisses back, because he always does. it’s all transactional, anyway. neither of them have really learnt how to move past the box they settled in.</p><p>“let’s go home,” jenny says.</p><p>“home is wherever i’m with you,” nate says, seriously enough that jenny can’t even tell if he’s referencing the lyric. he exhales, and she thinks she can smell cigarettes on his breath.</p><p>whatever. they’ve been killing themselves in slow motion for years.</p><p>jenny whistles the tune to the song, loops her arm around him.</p><p>“will i ever feel whole again?” nate asks. it’s not clear whether he’s talking to her, or to himself.</p><p>“unlikely,” jenny says. “but hey. cracks are how the light gets in. who said that?”</p><p>“i don’t know,” nate says. “did you expect me to?”</p><p>“i have no expectations, either way,” jenny says. “i’ve learnt from my past.”</p><p>nate laughs, voice rough. “no, you haven’t.”</p><p>jenny sighs. “no, i haven’t.” still, she smiles. “want to stop over and buy ice-cream?”</p><p>nate smiles. "you know me so well."</p><p>it's the strangest feeling; knowing that she does. she really does know him that well. </p><p>and he knows her just as well, too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah this is a series just in case the mood strikes! idek.</p><p>also --&gt; "<i>ring the bells that still can ring / forget your perfect offering / there is a crack, a crack in everything / that's how the light gets in</i>" is from <a href="https://youtu.be/BCS_MwkWzes">anthem by leonard cohen</a>. clearly i'm goin thru it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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